


A Normal Night

by bibesties



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Missing Scene, flashbacks to scene from deathly hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibesties/pseuds/bibesties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short but sweet Ron/Hermione story. Post 2nd Wizarding War.<br/>Ron returns home to Hermione and is eager to get some sleep, but he finds himself remembering the first time he showed his feelings to Hermione. Deathly Hallows spoilers, and lots of sad but happy memories. My take on what happened when Hermione and Ron seemed as though they had been holding hands in DH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Normal Night

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write what I think happened when Ron and Hermione fell asleep, kind of holding hands in Grimmauld Place, and then this story blossomed from that idea.
> 
> I also liked the idea of Hermione acting a little out of character around Ron at the start of their relationship, and joking with him more than she usually would, so that's what happens at the end of the story.
> 
> Harry Potter is not mine of course, if it was you would expect a lot less straight characters.

Hermione's arm lolled over the side of the bed, her palm flopping downwards and brushing the side of it. The bedroom door opened, widening the stream of light that came through the half-open door, before it was blocked by a figure.

Ron entered and the door brushed against the carpet as it was slowly closed, semi darkness returning to the room.  
The slit of light that pushed its way through the small gap in the door led him across the room. He made muffled footsteps as he approached the sleeping figure and then he stopped and knelt down to brush his hand over her cheek before grasping her fallen hand.

Thoughts about proposals suddenly flashed through his mind, but before he could register them he found himself remembering.

-x-

_An old dusty room with camp beds on the floor._

_He noted the dark curtains and peeling wallpaper, the emptiness of the room. It lacked care and attention, quite like it's past owner. He was sitting up on one of the camp beds, next to another occupied one. The girl in the other was sitting the opposite way to him, so they could see each other._

_Neither of them were speaking; he had his arms resting on top of his bent legs, and the girl, Hermione, was hugging her knees close to her, looking down at the blanket she sat on. She looked deep in thought, and he was looking over at her, studying her. They were on a trip, an important journey, he could feel the weight of its importance pushing down on him. He had many questions about where people were and how to find things, but all of them were lost when he looked at her._

_He was wondering when it would be right to tell her how glad he was that she was with him. How amazingly grateful he was to have her there, even if only as a friend. They weren't alone on this trip, but her presence meant so much to him, and he always felt... safe. And he hadn't told her this yet. He couldn't._

_Hermione looked up, the look of concentration had fallen from her face and now her brown eyes were looking into his. A small smile made its way onto her lips, as though she was thinking of something amusing. His expression remained the same, a little thoughtful, a little wary; he was unsure of what emotions to show._

_'It'll be alright, in the end, you know.' He said, his voice fairly quiet but full of assurance. Hermione looked a tiny bit more relaxed, the small smile still stuck to her face._  
 _'It's gonna be sorted, and we'll be ok.' He smiled back, hoping to get rid of her underlying worried expression.  
Without thinking, as though his mind somehow knew the actions that were coming next, he leaned forwards, reached over to Hermione and put his hand on top of hers, which was resting on one of her knees._

_He didn't know why he had done this, and he decided to tell himself it was an act of reassurance and friendship.  
The girl looked instantly happier at the feel of his hand on hers but tried not to show it._

_'Thanks Ron.'_

_He wasn't entirely sure what she was thanking him for, but he was glad she was actually smiling, and nodded, feeling a grin stretch on his face.  
He knew it would be silly, a wobbly big smile, and he patted her hand once, then pulled his arm away quickly, the grin on his face becoming an embarrassed smile._

_The girl's eyebrows were a little raised, but she was used to his sheepish behaivour. She flicked her wand to dim the lights, then slid down in her bed under her blanket.  
Ron copied her movements, head too full for him to pick one thing to think about, so he settled on just Not Thinking. Which was harder than he'd expected, as when he looked over at Hermione, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about her hair sticking out in all directions and just how nice it looked, how familiar it was to see her bushy hair moving almost independantly from her as she shifted around._

_'Well, erm ...'_

_'Goodnight.' Hermione finished with a tone of finality and assurance, and Ron found himself nodding again._

_After a few minutes he sighed exasperatedly, annoyed at himself as he replayed the night's events back to himself in his head, then remembered he wasn't alone and coughed gruffly._  
 _He couldn't hear any noises from the bed next to him, and he assumed Hermione was asleep and sighed again, but quietly.  
He had let his hands fall to the sides of the small bed he lay on, and he felt something touch his right hand gently._

_Warm fingers touched his knuckles then fit themselves into his hand. He was startled but then comfortable. He didn't need to look up and see Hermione; he knew she was reassuring him back._

_Ron started thinking about her again. They had been getting closer over the last few weeks, but it was just a stronger friendship, wasn't it?_  
 _He silently laughed to himself that he had once hated her, and was now glad about her endless knowledge, her friendship, her support.  
Her hand in his, connecting them both in this world that suddenly seemed too big for him to comprehend._

_His eyes stung at the sides. He couldn't keep them open, and his eyelids fell down. The rest of him wanted to go to sleep too, and his arms felt suddenly heavy and limp. His hand fell out of hers slowly, and he felt her hand sliding from his fingers as they both fell asleep, fingertips still touching._

-x-

The low chime of an old clock drifted through the air and hummed in Ron's ears. It was midnight.

His eyes refocused and he moved them from the patch of wall he had been staring at to Hermione. His eyes settled on her hand, which he was now holding between both of his palms.

He hadn't meant to return home at such a late time. He had been preoccupied with his job for the whole week, and he had been focusing on his work so much that evening that he hadn't noticed the hours passing by. He was annoyed at himself, but he let it pass. He was home now.

The clock finished its chiming and the low hum settled into silence.

Ron lifted Hermione's hand away from him and rested it next to her, before pushing himself up from the floor. He watched her face for a while, just looking at the way her eyelids flickered a little, or her lips separated themselves as she drew breath. He was amazed that she was his, that she was here, sleeping calmly in his bed, and he smiled at the idea that he could sit and watch her all night if he wanted to.

But a familiar heaviness was returning to his limbs as tiredness caught up with him. He hurriedly got changed into his pyjamas and slid himself quietly into bed next to her, cursing to himself in a whisper as the duvet rustled. He arched his back, his shoulders cracking a little as he stretched a little to relieve himself of the day's stress.  
Hermione moved next to him, and he turned over to face her, pushing himself further under the duvet until they were face to face.

Hermione's head rolled to the left to face Ron's, her face still calm as she slept.  
'Night Hermione,' Ron said in an audible whisper, and he kissed the side of her mouth. 'I'm sorry.'  
He felt the words hang in the air and he looked away from her face.

Ron turned over and reached out towards his old wooden bedside table, grabbing his dilluminator and accidentally knocking his wand, making it roll off the edge of the table.  
He cursed, more audibly than the last time, and picked his wand up, stretching the duvet over him and Hermione, involuntarily making her move closer to him.  
Ron turned over, feeling Hermione's warmth next to him and smiling. He flicked the lid of the dilluminator and a glow flew from outside of the door to the lighter-shaped object and the lid flicked back down.

Ron paused for a second to let his eyes adjust to the sudden thick darkness in the room, then he placed the dilluminator back on the table next to him.  
His eyes felt oddly awake, as though the half-darkness surrounding him was strong and bright.

He rolled his head to the side and saw the outline of Hermione's sleeping figure, the details shifting whenever he moved his eyes. He stroked the top of her arm absent-mindedly with a few fingers, then let his arm fall next to hers and closed his eyes.

'Vik... Viktor...'  
Ron heard Hermione's questioning voice murmur next to him. His eyelids snapped open and he felt alert, as though he hadn't just been sinking into sleep. He waited.

'Vik... tor?' Speaking in his sleep was normal for him, as Hermione knew well, but Ron hardly ever heard Hermione mumble to herself while she slept.

Ron didn't realise his expression was of complete bewilderment. His eyebrows were crumpled together in slight distaste and he watched Hermione with an uncertain look in his eye.

He nestled closer to her and whispered. 'Her ... mione? Are you awake?'  
He didn't know what to say, but the effects of tiredness were threatening him again, and he found that didn't much care what he said.

'Yes, of course I am Ron.'  
Hermione's voice was clear and assured, but friendly. Her eyes opened and she smiled at him. Ron didn't reply but his forehead remained creased.  
'Do you think I could miss you ... bumbling into our room at midnight?' Her tone was amazed but jovial.

Ron's brain registered the word 'our' for a second before spurting out a response. 'But you were saying...'

'Happy April fools day.'  
Hermione was looking right at him, her brown eyes fixed on his blue eyes, a full lipped smile on her face that glimmered with a hint of pride.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed, as though the silence between them held its own emotions.

Ron's face was blank. He seemed to have become out of control of his breathing, but not because of tiredness. He was blinking slowly, still looking at Hermione.  
She understood and the smile left her face and her forehead creased.

'He knows you miss him. We all miss him.'  
Hermione pushed the suffocating duvet away from her torso and wrapped her arms around a quiet and still Ron. She placed her cheek next to his and felt the tears slowly roll onto her face. Ron's arms were around her small shoulders and he gripped her back. They lay like this for a while, each of them feeling slightly lost but found at the same time.

'You need to remember the good memories you have of him. Not just the good ones...' Hermione hesitated, half-whispering into Ron's ear.  
'The... bloody brilliant ones.' Her voice shook with faint laughter and her own tears, and she pulled away from him a little to watch him in concern.

Ron didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He just held on to her, trying to regain control of himself and his emotions.

'It's ok.' She released Ron gradually and looked at his face to see a faint smile on his lips. She returned it with her own small smile, and lay down next to him.

Ron's eyes stung with tiredness and tears. He saw the outline of Hermione from the corner of his eye and saw that she was watching him. He nudged his arm nearer to hers and found her hand.

Grasping her hand tightly, he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

>  _"To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness."_ \- Howard Zinn


End file.
